Merry Christmass
by HR always live on
Summary: A HR happy one shot, set in S4. They're both spending the 25th alone, when they bump into each other. Hopefully a bit more interesting. Ch 2 up.
1. Chapter 1

**A Christmas one shot, possibly with a part two for New Years. Set around S4. Merry Christmas everyone. :) **

* * *

**25th December 9:25am, Thames House.**

Ruth walked to her desk, hands wrapped around her mug of tea as she sat down, looking around the empty grid. There'd been a couple of remedial staff keeping things ticking over but she'd sent them home. Christmas was a time to be with family. Well, those who were lucky enough to have family anyway. She didn't count herself among those lucky ones. She put her mug of tea down, relishing the heat in her fingertips before tapping the space bar on her computer and typing in her password.

She hadn't got very far on going through her emails, mostly newsletters and bulletins than anything new, when she heard the pods whirring. Surprised that anyone would be here on Christmas day, she turned and saw Harry heading directly to his office. He hadn't even looked around the grid, clearly expecting to be alone. Ruth cleared her throat, alerting him to her presence and he froze, turning towards her.

For sixty seconds, neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other in bewilderment, as they'd both clearly expected to be alone. She'd never seen Harry looking surprised. Usually he hid it, but not now. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I expect the same as you," she said quietly. "I… don't really have anywhere else to be today. I sent the remedial staff home."

"Good," he said as he walked over to her desk. Harry had been very vocal in having no one working on Christmas day, but he'd been overruled. Which made it all the more surprising that he was here.

"I thought… you have children. Don't you want to…" she blushed, knowing that she'd overstepped the mark. "I'm sorry, it's really none of my business. I shouldn't have…"

"It's okay," he said. His lips were tilting in a smile, but she could see that he was hiding his pain. "They don't… they've got their own lives. It's fine." It wasn't, Ruth could tell. "I thought I'd come here and distract myself. And I find you sitting at your desk."

"I don't have anyone," she said. "I thought I'd make myself useful rather than sit at home and watch inane Christmas television." He smiled at that, an honest smile this time.

"I don't understand this countries obsession with Christmas TV," he said, shaking his head. He looked around the dim grid and sighed. "You know what, let's forget this. Would you like a drink?"

Ruth blinked in surprise. "Er… what about here?" she asked to buy herself time, looking around the grid.

"I'll set up my phone so if there's a problem we'll be alerted instantly," he said. "But there won't be. Not today. Would you like a drink with me?"

"It's not even ten in the morning."

"Ruth. It's Christmas."

She smiled, the first one of the day. "Yes, I'd love to." She stood up and put her coat on. "Is anywhere open today?"

"All of the pubs were opening up as I came in."

"All of the pubs?" Ruth questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I took a long walk in this morning. More of a meander through London. We won't have a problem getting a drink." She smiled and wrapped her scarf around her neck, aware that Harry was watching her closely. Sometimes she felt like she was imagining the tension between them because she wanted it to be there, and at other times, like now, she knew she wasn't imagining it. His eyes were lingering on her neck in a way that was highly unsuitable were they just work colleagues.

"Let's go." He smiled and they walked out of the pods together.

* * *

Ten minutes later they sat down at a table in The George, Ruth rubbing her hands together. It was bitterly cold and her gloves were somewhere at the bottom of her bag. She hadn't thought it was worth putting them on for such a short journey. Now she was regretting not having fished them out. "What would you like?" Harry asked.

"A white wine, if we're starting early," she said. He nodded and retreated to the bar while she attempted to warm her hands up. She'd chosen a table by a heater so it didn't take long for her to thaw out. The pub was very busy, considering it was Christmas morning and she looked around, taking in the couples and old friends who seemed to be using the pub as a meeting place. Probably so they didn't have to cope with entertaining them at their homes, she thought cynically. But the atmosphere was a happy one and she smiled as Harry came back with their drinks, his a red wine.

"No whisky?" she asked, teasing very slightly.

"No," he said. "I'll fall asleep by two in the afternoon if I start on the spirits now." She smiled as he took his coat off and her breath caught for a moment. He hadn't bothered with a tie today, and his shirt had the top two buttons undone. Ruth had rarely seen him looking so relaxed and it was doing things to her mind, including imagining what it would feel like if she were to press her lips to that bare patch of skin.

"Merry Christmas," Harry said, raising his glass to hers and drawing her out of her imagination.

"Merry Christmas," she echoed. Silence settled around them and it began to get a little uncomfortable. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to Harry out of work. And when they did speak away from the grid, it was usually about terrorists anyway.

"How are you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm okay," she said. "I usually spend Christmas alone, Harry. It doesn't bother me."

"Not that much, you mean," Harry said with a raised eyebrow. She was about to interrupt when he carried on. "Because I feel like that too. Normally… but with Christmas it feels… not quite right to be alone." She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.

"You're right," she said.

"I want to tell you something," he said. She nodded for him to continue and he reached into his pocket for his wallet, opened it and took out a photo. He gave it to her. Ruth was surprised as she looked at a baby boy, maybe four months old. He had wide blue eyes staring at the camera in apparent bewilderment.

"Joshua. He's Catherine's son," Harry said.

"He's gorgeous," Ruth replied, smiling as she handed the photo back. "Why haven't you told anyone?" she asked. He'd kept that purposefully quiet but she couldn't fathom why.

"I don't trust many people Ruth," he said quietly. "I felt the fewer people that knew about my… grandson, the less likely it'd be used against me. And the less danger he'd be in."

Ruth sighed sadly. It was a shame they lived in a world where things like that were necessary. She'd also caught the hesitation before the word "grandson" which meant he wasn't quite used to saying it yet. She felt a surge of warmth towards him for that little vulnerability. "But you're telling me," she said quietly.

"I trust you," he said with a smile. She recognised that as no small thing and she felt strangely grateful for that simple phrase.

She smiled at him. "So go on then," she said easily. "Do what grandparents do and brag about your grandchildren."

"I'll bore you," he said, though his eyes were bright.

"I promise you won't," she said. "Go on." He didn't need much encouragement.

* * *

They ended up walking through a frosty St James's park together, talking amiably about anything and everything. It was beautiful and the distant noise of London traffic was muted much more so than normal, the only people on the roads being cars of families going to visit relatives. They weren't the only people to take advantage of a clear but cold Christmas day and the park was full of happy people.

"It's cold," Harry said, rubbing his hands together.

"Not as cold as it is in the south west right now," she said. "They're crazy down there."

"Hmm?" he asked.

"The Christmas day swim," she said, smiling at the memory. "On Christmas morning, they all go in the ocean." She looked at her watch which showed eleven thirty. "Right about now actually."

"It'll be freezing," Harry said bewildered.

"Yes," she said, smiling at the memory. "We're a bit mad down south."

"Did you ever go in?" he asked.

"Whenever the weather was good. Relatively speaking, anyway. After my father died, we wanted to do something different on Christmas day. Something that wouldn't remind us of him. So we went to the beach instead. I went in the ocean all the time. At ten I didn't know any better, which begs the question, why was I still doing it at eighteen?"

"Why?" he asked. "Why do they all do it?"

"There's loads of events dotted along the south coast. Christmas Eve, Christmas day, Boxing day, New Years Day. If you wanted to, you could do one every day. Mainly because it's fun. All the madness in one place at one time. Laughter and screaming because it's so cold. The atmosphere's wonderful."

"I think you're right," he said. "You're all mad in the south." She laughed.

"What about you?" she asked. "Any Christmas traditions that are special to you?"  
"Not really," he said. "Our Christmases were boring and traditional. I mean that in a good way though. As a child, we always went ice skating, sometime before Christmas, me and my brother. Or we always tried, anyway. We'd try and find some rivers or ponds that had frozen over and we didn't always manage it. One year, we found a pond, but it wasn't safe. The ice was far too thin to hold much more than a stray leaf, but Ben didn't listen. He put his skates on and went on the ice."

"And?" Ruth prompted.

"The ice did it's best. It held out for almost a minute before it cracked through. Ben saw it going and tried to scramble towards land, but that made it worse. The ice broke and he fell in. The pond was only about waist height, it was someone's garden pond I think. He swore like a sailor as he fell into the ice. All I did was howl with laughter as he waded out, shivering like mad." Harry smiled at the memory. "Ben lost his taste for ice skating after that episode." Ruth smiled at him, his face more animated with memories of his childhood than she'd seen in a good long while.

She reached for his hand without thinking about it, then instantly felt stupid. "Sorry," she said, letting go and feeling her face burn red in embarrassment.

He took her hand back into his grip, without looking at her. "Don't be." Inwardly she smiled. Their gloves were stopping their skin from touching, but it felt good all the same.

* * *

"Make yourself at home," Ruth said, disabling the alarm as Harry moved through to her kitchen. She'd spent an enjoyable morning and early afternoon with Harry, and to her surprise, they hadn't mentioned work any more than Ruth asking once if they'd had an alert from the grid. To be able to spend time with Harry, and enjoy it away from the threat of terrorism was something special to her. She felt deeply attracted to Harry, and she'd known that for a few months now, but a part of her had worried that it was only the pressure of the grid that made her feel they'd ever work as a couple. For one day, they'd been away from that, and it'd felt good. They'd walked along the embankment, through Parliament Square and past Westminster Abbey. In fact, Ruth's feet were beginning to twinge from how far they'd walked today, but she wouldn't take it back for anything. Christmas day spent with Harry through a mostly empty London had been a wonderful way to spend the day. She kicked off her shoes (thankfully flats) and then saw Harry looking at her expectantly.

"Sorry?" she asked, having realised she'd been lost in her thoughts of Harry that she hadn't even realised he'd spoken. His lips twitched, almost as if he knew what she was thinking.

"I said your Christmas present's at home," he repeated. "I hadn't expected to run into you after all."

"I thought we agreed that we weren't giving everyone presents?" Ruth said. The team had agreed, thinking it would be easier to avoid the stress of it all.

"We did," he said. "But I wanted to get you something." Ruth smiled warmly and her heart caught at the intensity in his eyes. She broke the moment, feeling like she was being swept along quicker than she intended. She turned away and opened her kitchen cupboard, handing him a wrapped rectangle.

"You didn't listen either then?"

"No," she said. "Or not for you anyway." She blushed and busied herself with the kettle.

"Ruth, I want to talk to you," he said, putting the gift down on the table. "Honestly." She closed her eyes, feeling him standing very closely behind her. His voice had lowered several notches and she shivered at the sound. "Look at me, Ruth." She took a moment to compose herself before turning around. When she did, she saw his eyes were focused on hers, open and beautifully attractive. "I've had… a wonderful day today."

She nodded, because so had she. Which had been unexpected when she'd woken up that morning. "Ruth, I can't… You work for me. I can't do anything."

Her eyes lowered and she felt a wave of sadness overwhelm her. Of course nothing could happen between them. It would make work horribly awkward, especially if they fell apart. "No, I don't mean… Look, if I initiated anything between us, it could be seen as sexual harassment. Especially if I'm completely misreading our… situation. But if _you_ did anything… then…"

She raised her eyes to his at that, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. He was so close, she was almost touching his body. His hand moved very gently on to her waist. "Tell me that you don't want me, Ruth. I will never mention this again. Tell me that this is all in my imagination, the imagination of a sad and lonely old man. I promise it won't affect the way we work together." He waited expectantly and she couldn't think what to say first.

"Harry…" she breathed, her eyes being drawn to that enticing bare patch of skin at his throat for a moment. "Of course I want you. I'm just… not very good at this. Relationships. But I do want you." His hand on her waist took a firmer grip, his thumb starting to caress her body, through the layers of fabric between them. His other hand ran through her hair, pushing it away from her face. She saw in his face that he wasn't going to kiss her, and knew she had to be the one to make the move. She slid her right hand underneath his jacket, her palm on the small of his back with only the cotton of his shirt separating their skin. With her other hand she stroked his face, very, very gently. Then she kissed him, lips soft against his. He was holding back, she could feel it and she licked his lips. His hands gripped her tighter as he opened his mouth and the kiss became deeper. He was still holding back and she slid her hand down, curving around his bum and he groaned loudly. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she kissed him again.

This time he let go of his control, pulling her hard against him as he kissed her fervently. He pushed a hand under her blouse, stroking her spine in a way that sent shivers through her. She had no idea how long it was before he let her go, his hands falling from her body as he took a step backwards to put some space between them.

"Harry?" she asked quietly. Her lips felt swollen and she knew her face was heated from passion.

"God, the way you look right now… I need to go."

"What? Why?" she asked.

"Because if I don't leave, I'm going to end up pinning you to the nearest wall and ravishing you until you're begging for more," he said lowly. "And I don't want to rush this. It's too important."

"Okay," she said, not quite brave enough to argue and tell him that being pinned by him to a wall sounded like a perfect idea to her. "Merry Christmas Harry."

He smiled and kissed her cheek gently. "Merry Christmas Ruth," he murmured into her ear, before turning and leaving. She stayed still until she heard the door close and then she smiled. She'd just got exactly what she wanted for Christmas.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's part two as a lot of people asked for. It doesn't have a point, beyond being a bit of festive happiness. Also near an M rating for this one. Enjoy.**

* * *

**31st December, 10:12 pm.**

Ruth lay still, staring into space, her face completely blank and he was beginning to worry about her. Whenever he'd fantasised about them having sex, and he had often done precisely that, he'd never imagined that empty look on her face.

"Ruth, what are you thinking?" he asked quietly, entwining his fingers through hers but otherwise not touching her.

"Nothing," she said, tightening her grip on his fingers.

"You look… upset. Did you not want this?" She had given every appearance to being as eager as he, but now...

"I'm not upset." She rolled onto her side, facing him and not letting go of his hand. "Do you know how rare it is for me to simply… stop thinking? To empty my mind of everything and just stop. It's not a bad thing that I'm not thinking, Harry." She curled around him, making sure their skin was touching everywhere possible as her eyes fluttered closed in contentment. He put an arm around her, drawing her close, and feeling relieved by her words.

"You do know this wasn't what I had in mind when I suggested we spend new years eve together?" Harry murmured before kissing her behind her ear. She shifted so her head lay on his chest as he pulled the sheet over them both. He had suggested it, as section E was in charge of crowd control on the embankment for the New Years Eve fireworks, and they both had the evening off. He hadn't foreseen that dinner would turn into frantic sex, though he had fantasised about it.

"Really? It's exactly what I had in mind," she said, her voice slurring slightly. "Ending the year with a bang." He smiled, but his fingers ached to touch her. He moved, cupping her breast gently, which made a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "Why do you think I wore that black lacy underwear?" she added. "Just in case this happened."

"I loved that touch," he said, sliding a hand down her body to cup her bum firmly. "Though I liked it even more when the lace came off."

"Hmm," she murmured. Her eyes opened and the beautiful post coital bliss was starting to fade, reality bringing with it a new set of worries.

"We can't bring this into work, Harry. Us. This. We can't bring it onto the grid. I don't want that." She cleared her throat. "Provided that this isn't just a…"

"No," he said. "This isn't just a fling or a one off," he added firmly. "I want more than that." He brushed her hair off her face, letting his thumb follow the contours of her face gently before his hand fell away.

"I do too," she said.

"We'll keep it off the grid, if that's what you want," he said. "I don't mind."

"I want to keep it private," she said. "I don't want anyone to think that I'm sleeping with the boss to get ahead. And people would think that, Harry. You know they would."

"Not the people in section D," he said, but he knew her point was a good one.

"No," she said. "The people who know us… they won't think that. But others will, and I would prefer not to be seen as that woman sleeping her way to the top. Especially with your previous reputation."

It wasn't a question, but he looked at her sharply anyway. "Ruth, this isn't a sordid affair. Is it?"

"No," she said firmly.

"Okay," he said, wanting to drop it and talk about less serious things. She took the hint and rolled on top of him, taking his nipple in her mouth and sucking gently. He groaned, unable to believe how quickly she'd found his weak points. She pulled back and blew lightly on his damp skin, and before he'd even formed the thought, he'd flipped her over to her back and had her wrists pinned above her head, kissing her deeply.

"Getting to you, was I?" she asked, tugging her wrists slightly. "Oh, I was," she added, pushing her hips upwards to meet his. She could feel him getting hard again and she smiled. "Let go of my wrists." He did and her hands slid downwards over his body. She felt his length slowly. "Already?"

"It's been a very long time since I've had someone to share my bed, Ruth," he murmured. As they kissed, they rolled onto their sides and his fingers stroked between her legs. She squealed and arched away.

"Your fingers are freezing!" He laughed, but didn't stop stroking her, his fingers quickly warming up. They stopped speaking with words, turning to each others warm bodies in the darkness. It didn't last long, both of them moaning with completion before she closed her eyes and faded into sleep.

Ruth awoke with a start, hearing a loud crack like a gunshot. "It's just the fireworks," Harry said softly, stroking her arm. Sure enough, many loud bangs followed, the window lighting up with vague flashes of colour from the pyrotechnics. She watched Harry as he reached for a glass of champagne and handed it to her. That hadn't been there when she'd dozed off, so she frowned at him in question.

"I haven't been sleeping," he said gently.

"Why not?"

"Because I preferred watching you."

"That could be seen as... slightly disturbing," she said easily, clinking her champagne glass against his before taking a large sip.

He smiled. "No, not disturbing," he said. "I just wanted to make sure this was really happening."

"It is," she said. "Or I'm going to be very disappointed when I wake up." They stayed silent, drinking their champagne until the distant bangs faded into nothing.

"Happy new year, Ruth," he said quietly, his eyes brimming with emotion.

"Happy new year, Harry." She sealed the statement with a kiss and rolled over and went happily to sleep.

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
